Reaper of Cheydinhal: Supernal Dreaming
Morgan found himself in a island that seemingly floated in space. He knew what this realm was. Maybe. Feeling a bit woozy, he decided to explore the strange realm he was dragged in, unable to remember if he was asleep or awake. It mattered little though, as the first priority was to find answers. Using his inhuman leaping abilities as a vampire, Morgan made his way towards the end of the island, which viewed a statue of a mysterious being. He took a small moment to observe the statue... until he realized that the statue itself was an effigy of the Lord of Domination: Molag Bal. As he drew his blade, the statue came to life. A statue that was 10 meters tall, and wielded a replicated Mace of Molag Bal that was still enough to crush a person into a flattened dumpling. Morgan engaged the statue with his superb skills. As what looked like a never ending fight, Morgan prepared to strike down the statue from above after a Transversal, but was caught by the hand of the statue. As the effigy of Molag Bal roared at him it proceeded to chomp off Morgan's head like a snack as blood flew everywhere. ... ...? ... "!!!" Morgan shot up. He looked around, and found himself at his usual headquarters, hidden deep within the confines and shadows of the Rift of Skyrim. It was the same dream again. The very dream that Clavicus Vile taunted him about. The day where the God of Brutality will finally claim and enslave his soul, and forced to suffer an eternity of torture and infinite cruelty. Even with such a horrific nightmare, Morgan did not let that stop him. He proceeded to gather his gear and meet up with Elvali Ramarys. He expected a report by the end of the day. His expectations were met when Elvali had left notes of the possible whereabouts of a loose end. Morgan immediately decided to pack up what he needed and left to find the said loose end before he could escape to Morrowind or Eastmarch. ...Francois War-Bane. ... The Rift. The south-eastern region of Skyrim, surrounded by rich autumnal forests, teeming with stags, wolves, sabre cats, and so on. It was a dangerous yet beautiful region. Morgan finally arrived at the city of Riften, which was more orderly thanks to the destruction of the Thieves Guild years before. He headed inside and went for the inn to meet up with his contact. At the Bee and Barb, Morgan headed upstairs, and found an Imperial in Elvali's place. "So what happened?" "She went ahead. She headed for that creepy necromancer's tower just south of Riften." "I see. Anything else I should know?" "You might. The Dawnguard's presence is the strongest in Skyrim. Best keep on your guard." Morgan nodded in respect, and decided to head for Darklight Tower. Chances are that Francois's men will try killing him on sight, and he had to be careful. Inside was far more stranger than it already is: It looked like a slaughterhouse of sorts, deer meat and such crudely placed in buckets. Chances were that the meat was botched and would prove very bad to anyone who would consume the tainted meat, but it was also possible that the meat were used to create biological weapons, by launching the tainted meat filled with disease via catapults or even trebuchets. It mattered little. One thing at a time was Morgan's current thoughts. He began to sneak his way through the complex, avoiding the crazy-looking butchers of the tower, whom wielded either war axes or battleaxes. Morgan had eventually successfully sneaked through the entire complex, and found a war tent and entered. There, he saw a man in noble clothing, unfazed by the arrival of a sudden intruder, as if he was expecting the vampire. "Come, take a seat." The noble said casually, offering the last seat to Morgan. The vampire was very cautious about this, but decided to sit anyway. He could easily teleport out of the tent if the need came to be. "So, how's life been treating ya? Not exactly the lavish lifestyle you would epxect after a war, but yeah. You understand the circumstances, do you?" The noble smiled. Morgan remained silent, completely unamused. "Still the zero sense of humor, as always." The noble smirked. "Now, I know what you want. You're after some dreaming maniacs, right? I suppose I should tell you that this is more than just you, I'm afraid." He noted. "What?" Morgan asked. "You see... This cult, the Supernal Dreamers, are the most dangerous cult of Vaermina to operate in Tamriel. They almost destroyed a certain kingdom back in the Second Era. Now, they intend to try it again. Except here, in Skyrim." The noble expained. "What do you mean? Explain." Morgan said, his calm tone still present. In truth, he was very concerned about this. "As I said, they will try destroying the province of Skyrim by effectively eliminating it's leaders. Among them, Ulfric Stormcloak." The noble said. "My spies tell me that the Supernal Dreamers are operating in the remote locations in Skyrim, and setting up rituals and gods-know-what to increase Vaermina's influence in the province. One of these detachments already made their move in Falkreath. I've heard rumors of Jarl Siddgeir having nightmares as of late, and didn't sleep very well. I advise that you go to stop this cult before they do end up killing him, even without a poisoned dagger stabbed in his belly or slicing his throat. The last known location of the cult is a place called the 'Meandering Cave', south of Helgen." The noble said. "Thank you. I see that you're still a man of your word, as always." Morgan nodded, before he decided to sneak out of the tower. The noble just smiled. Morgan was nothing if not overcoming what seemed to be the impossible... Unpleasant Dreams Morgan had successfully arrived at the outskirts of the Meandering Cave. The front entrance was empty, aside a few wolves. They were trivial for the vampire thanks to his telekinesis. He finally headed inside very carefully, and his caution paid off when he had managed to land a surprise attack on a patrolling cultist. Hiding the body, the assassin began to sneak his way through the cultists, but not without neutralizing them with lethal efficiency and minimal mess through the use of brutal sneak attacks with his dagger. As soon as he cleaned out the goons, he was now faced with the master cultist, who was impossible to sneak attack due to his position. The master cultist let out a "HA!" as he summoned a Dremora to deal with the vampire. With stealth out of the option, Morgan froze the Master Cultist in an Ash Shell to deal with the Dremora. As soon as the Daedra was defeated, Morgan could just easily kill the defenseless Supernal Dreamer. The Dremora, armed with a Daedric Greatsword, lunged straight for the vampire with a vertical slash. The vampire easily dodged out of the way, before he began to cut the Dremora bit-by-bit. The Daedra let out a cry of pain, but this only fueled his anger. Morgan's agility began to support him in his battle greatly, able to dodge the clunky attacks of the Dremora while cutting him down slowly. After the Daedra get far too sloppy, the opponent simply decapitated it witha clean swing towards the neck. With the Dremora out of the way, Morgan went for the makeshift shrine of Vaermina, and planed a Fire Rune close to it via scroll and detonating it with a simple Flames spell. The shrine is destroyed and Vaermina's influence drastically decreased in Falkreath, but Morgan's woes were not yet at an end. More cultists began to pour out of the other parts of the complex. Knowing better, Morgan chose to flee, and embraced the shadows... Old Friends With the first target taken care of, Morgan returns to his hidden lair to rest. On his desk was another letter, with a wax seal made out of a special ink that could only be opened by vampiric blood. Opening the letter with a drop and reading it's contents, he sighed afterwards. "Elvali, you reckless woman." He grunted in disapproval. He decided to call on his scout, whom appeared via transversal. "Master?" "When did she get captured? And where?" "Eastmarch, sir. Near some abandoned fort near Raldbthar. An old fort named Morvunskar." "Anything we know about it?" "No, sir, but the place is infested with necromancer scum." "I see. Very well. Tell the crew that you're in charge while I'm gone. I'm off for a little fishing." "Yes, sir." The scout then vanished as quickly as he came, as Morgan prepared himself for a 'fishing' trip to Morvunskar to save Elvali. ... ... ... Days later... Morgan arrived on the outskirts of Morvunskar. As expected, it was filled with rogue mages and necromancers. Dangerous... The assassin thought to himself, before he began to sneak into the fort, keeping in the shadows and avoiding the enemy as much as possible. Using a small vial of invisibility potion, he quickly snuck into the front door without trouble. Sticking to the shadows, he began observing if there were any guard patterns, before proceeding any further. "Are you sure it's a good idea letting those bandits hide here? Trust isn't exactly in long supply, y'know." "This again? I told you, we're being paid to keep quiet, not blabber. Now stop your worrying and get back to the forge, before the boss fries you then I''' have to work the forge." "Why do they need us to work the forge again? We use '''magic, not weapons!" "The boss noted that we should also learn weapon usage. What if we get silenced via illusion?" "...Fair point. Fine, fine, I'll get to work." The mage shrugged, before he went back for the forge. As he neared the shadows, he found himself grabbed from behind and put in a sleeper hold, quickly losing his consciousness and being dragged into the darkness. Morgan then used his Transversal to teleport behind the second mage and killed him with a stab straight through the neck, before hiding the body in the shadows. As he continued, he could hear the sounds of what sounded like whipping and yelling. Very likely sounds of torture... ----- "Where. Is. Morgan?" A witch asked Elvali as she continued to whip her at the back. "...Hah... hahaha... You really think he'll come for me? He doesn't like coming for those incompetent enough to get captured." The witch was now more than annoyed. She coated her whip with frostbite venom and prepared to whip the dunmer in the face, until she felt a crushing bite in her throat from behind... As the witch died gurgling in her own blood, Morgan immediately removed Elvali from her shackles. "My knight in shining armor..?" Elvali asked sarcastically. "No. I just don't want you to die." Morgan said, before he got Elvali behind his back and began to sneak his way out of the fort. Once he got out of the front door, he was greeted with the sight of a Witch garbed in intricate armor, and holding what seemed to be a replica of the Skull of Corruption... "Good to see you again. Morgan." The witch smiled under her half-mask. "...How many times do I have to kill you?" Morgan sighed, before gently setting Elvali down and drawing his shortblade. The two adversaries circled each other, the other wary of the enemy's next move... Category:Stories